


We're So Screwed: A Love Story

by savvymavvy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: CrissColfer Big Bang, Explosions, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Off-screen Relationship(s), Overly Sarcastic Cat, general mayhem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvymavvy/pseuds/savvymavvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren is a companion at a tiny backwater spaceport and Chris is the broke cargo runner trying to make ends meet. All circling bodies eventually crash into each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're So Screwed: A Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to [Mandeh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy). I asked her what she wanted and she said Chris in space so this is what happened. Thanks so much for the support and help with word war-ing. 
> 
> Also big thank you to Tayler for the lightning fast beta and dogshat for the art and for every single person who participated in a word war. Thanks guys. <3 <3 
> 
> Final shout out to Farscape, Firefly, Doctor Who, Star Wars, Red Dwarf, Star Trek and every amazing sci-fi show out there that I was able to pilfer from. You guys are the best. 
> 
> (Especially Farscape.)

The halls of the Holegn were cold and dark and the heavy tread of Chris’s thick leather boots reverberated down the hall. Up ahead a light flickered, on, then off and finally on again. The Holegn wasn’t the nicest station Earth had, that was Seraphicus. With large state of the art plasma walls, tidal lock on mother Sun and its relative proximity to Earth, Seraphicus was the Queen City of Space. She was huge; there were twelve different docking bays on Seraphicus, each bay capable of dealing with six different ships at the same time. She had enough fuel on hand at any given time to reload over a couple dozen Leviathan’s, was fitted for every technological advancement and had a staff of thousands to care for it all. On top of that there were the bars, restaurants, shops, clubs, and simulated gardens, all clamoring to get a piece of the action from pilots in between jumps. Nothing but the best for Seraphicus and the hundreds of pilots that went in and out of her arms each day.

That went for the companions as well. Earth had the best options for refined, attractive companions but there were always some who were lured by the sense of adventure or the money in being a companion on a spaceport and Seraphicus was the best place to be. The best pilots with the most disposable income went through Seraphicus and it had the most amenities to offer. If a young companion was going to take a job in space, the only place for them to go and live how they were trained to live was on Seraphicus.

But Holegn wasn’t that well equipped. She only had three bays with room for two ships each, her technology was lagging and her design was barebones structural at best, complete with exposed metal beams. The sunlight she got was weak at best so there was no hope for anything of Seraphicus’ lush gardens on her, not that she had the space. She was tiny and staffed by only a few hundred people at most. The mechanics were at the end of their run and the accommodations were old and cramped and, occasionally, bewilderingly damp. On top of all that, there was only two places to go for a drink and only one of them was ever worthwhile.

The further a spaceport was from Earth, the less she had and the older she was. It was just more difficult to get new materials and new technology out on the boundaries. It was even more difficult to get people willing to go that far away. The pay usually wasn’t enough to compensate how far from home and everyone else they loved was. So the facilities were constantly running down and in need of upgrade and the staff wasn’t the best and the brightest. In the uncharted boundaries outside of Earth’s reach, it was only the rejects, the dropouts, the occasional thrill seeker and the about to retire. From mechanics to companions to chefs, the further out you were from Earth, the more the quality dropped dramatically. Without a doubt, Holegn was a far shot closer to hell than anything Chris had ever encountered on or near Earth.

But, Holegn had Darren.

Darren, the easygoing, charming entertainer in Holegn’s only bar. He could play any instrument put in front of him and had no problem conversing with anyone in their native tongue _without_ the aid of translators. He was likeable, a good dancer, a great singer and was so attractive he made Chris’s eyes cross anytime he looked at him. He was also a companion and the only good thing Holegn had ever had.

Most companions prefer a closer assignment. They prefer to stay close to Earth and the society and goods that are more readily available planetside. Some companions go further out for adventure, some for a bit more pay, some because that’s where they have to go to get clients. Chris has never asked Darren why he took an assignment this far away from Earth, but he’s fairly certain it isn’t the last one and he’s mentioned his family before so Chris is also fairly certain it isn’t the second one. He’s still unsure if it is the first one or not.

Darren is the only good thing that Chris has going for him right now. After a grueling haul from one end of the territories to another, the only thing that keeps Chris on his feet and moving through the clanking halls of Holegn is the promise of a smile from Darren. It’s cheesy and it is over the top but that’s where Chris is now. He doesn’t care, he’s come to terms with it.

And Darren always knows just what he needs. Chris isn’t sure if it is something taught at companion training or if Darren just has a sixth sense for these kinds of things, or maybe just for him, but he is always able to tell if Chris needs someone to talk his ear off and provide him with companionship or to leave him alone or just that he needs the biggest drink and a headache patch.

Tonight, Chris needs a little of both. His ship, Esmia, has been on her last engines for awhile now and Chris has been pushing it and pushing it but she can be pushed no further. He had to practically drag her back into her dock tonight, she was almost smoking when he stepped out of her. She’s going to take more credits than he has to fix her, which will require a loan and time for the parts to make their way out this far which will also require Chris to tell work he can’t make his runs in time which will make them angry and Chris without money. This month has already been tight and Chris knows he’s not going to make it any better. Still, the choice between the only relief he knows and some food that barely ranks above gruel isn’t really a choice at all.

Chris enters the bar, the light low over actual bar as Max cleans the few glasses he has. There is a bright light over what counts as a stage where Darren is just playing with the keys. There are two other customers in the bar, regulars, Chris knows them. They’re heading out soon on the next shipment to Wudu in a few hours which suits Chris well. He isn’t really in the mood for company, or anything outside of certain company.

He takes his seat at the end of the bar closest to the piano and signals to Max, getting a glass with a nice, neat double of whiskey set up real quick. Chris appreciates that in a bartender. Still doesn’t mean he’s going to tip (and who’s he kidding, the bartender knows him by now and knows he won’t be getting anything from Chris). Darren smiles his way, a nice quirk of the lips as his fingers continue to play flourishes over the keys. There is no real melody to it, but it doesn’t bother Chris. Its nice and a bit cacophonic, a bit like Darren himself.

Chris has only made it halfway through his drink when Darren stands from the piano, nodding at the two other men in the room before making his way over to the bar. The way Darren moves makes Chris’s mouth water and he swallows, just to keep himself from having another other problems.

“Hey, I expected you in earlier tonight.” Darren leans against the bar, right up against Chris and smiles. Not just smiles but _smiles_. The one he does for Chris where it goes too wide and makes his eyes crinkle and practically disappear in how large his cheeks get.

“Yeah, well, Esmia quit on me halfway home and I had to bring her in on her knees.” Chris sighs and drinks more whiskey. Being reminded of his ship only serves to remind him how _little_ money he has right now and how he definitely doesn’t have the funds for what he wants to do.

“Brian couldn’t fix it?”

Chris snorts, shaking his head. “Useless Cat.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why we were so excited when the evolved thumbs, let alone the ability to communicate, its not like they’re _any_ use. Can’t even remember why I took Brian at all.”

“You got him to help fix Esmia, remember?” Darren’s smile softens and he reaches out to brush the hair out of Chris’s eyes. Its an intimate touch and does make Chris smile back briefly.

“Yeah but he fucking _lied_ on his application. He said he could fix Alterna-Hyperdrives and I know for a fact that cat can not do jack shit with the Alterna-Drives. Woden knows what else he lied about. And now I have to trust him to fix Esmia when the new parts come in. Stupid cat.” Chris downs the rest of his whiskey and pushes the glass forward to Max, pointing to it. The bartender’s good and fills his glass right back up again. Darren watches, small smile on his face as Chris just complains bitterly about Brian.

There is a mechanical voice over a speaker system alerting of the next Leviathan jump to Wudu, a planet just outside their current star system, and the two men behind them stand up, credit coins clinking down on the table as they head out. Now it is just him and Darren … and Max.

Chris both loves and hates times like this. Having Darren just to himself is heady and exactly what he wants. But having Darren just to himself is also ripe with danger for both of them. Max fills their glasses again, the silence in the bar beginning to border on oppressive before he ducks away into the back, leaving Chris on his own with Darren.

Sighing, Chris clinks his glass into Darren’s before knocking part of it back. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“Seems like.” Darren doesn’t say anything more, just watches Chris drink and it would be unnerving if Chris wasn’t used to Darren watching him do a lot of things. Chris doesn’t have a lot of money in his pockets. Really, he has enough credits to get some food while he’s on this station and then refill the pantry on his ship and that’s about it. Chris doesn’t make that much as a runner and most of what he _does_ make gets sent back to his parents for his sister, Hannah. She’d been born with a form of epilepsy that was, when not treated, potentially debilitating. Fortunately for Hannah the illness was treatable, albeit not curable. With the right medications and the right doctors, she could lead a life free of the episodes and fits that marked the disease. Unfortunately, the right doctors and the right medications were _expensive_ and Chris’s parents weren’t wealthy. They made enough for a nice living, but not enough to get Hannah the treatment she needed on a regular basis and Chris wasn’t going to let his sister suffer when he could do something about it. He may have had different dreams for his life but, that was really what they were, dreams. When he took the job as a cargo pilot, he had told himself he could still write during trips but the reality was, there was so much to do on a trip, so many different parts that needed to be replaced en route and the secure cargo routes were changing all the time he had to keep their flight paths updated and on schedule and when it finally came down to it, he had lost the spark of desire to actually get anything down.

That isn’t what is on his mind, though, when he looks up and catches Darren’s gaze. It’s soft but piercing and it makes Chris shudder softly with the intensity of it. Really, it doesn’t matter how few credits he has, how much he needs to send to his family; it doesn’t matter that he needs these last few credits to get a few meals, deep down, Chris knows he is going to spend them.

Chris slams back his whiskey, finishing it off in one drink and sets his glass back on the bartop harder than necessary. He slides off his stool, Darren’s gaze still following him as he straightens and holds a hand out to him. Deep down, Chris knows the night was always going to go this way because it doesn’t matter what needs there are in his life, he needs Darren more.

*

The walk to Darren’s quarters always makes Chris feel conspicuous. He’s never asked Darren what happens if he runs into another client along the way, it isn’t really proper to ask about things like that. But Chris feels as if he is on display as he walks alongside Darren, neither one of them saying anything and only touching where their hands are still clasped together between them. He feels like everyone on this station can see him and can see how pathetically he follows behind Darren. He’s never hidden well how moony-eyed Darren makes him, how large his crush is on the older man. He always worries that everyone can see it each time he makes his way to Darren’s quarters but each time, his need to be with Darren overwhelms his fears for his fellow station inhabitants.

The door wooshes open to reveal a lavish and nicely decorated tiny apartment. As a companion, Darren is awarded prime location with his living quarters. Chris has been here frequently, so much so that he feels he knows the layout better than his own (he definitely knows the layout better than his own. Anytime he is on Holegn he is more likely to end up sleeping his nights here then in his own place.)

“This is new,” Chris says, moving over to a large ornate harp, sitting off to the side. Much of Darren’s already small apartment is made smaller by the addition of many instruments. He can play them all, Chris has heard Darren tell the stories on them frequently enough, but hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing everyone. One of these days he will.

“Ah, yes, that.” Darren stares at the harp but the look on his face is less affection for a gorgeous instrument and closer to a grimace. “It was actually a gift from a client.”

Chris pulls his hand away from the instrument as if burned. Darren gives him an understanding look and reaches out for him. Chris curls into the touch, letting Darren pull him in. “Would you rather I tell you about my instruments or ... “

“ … tell me about your _instrument_?” Chris guesses, finishing Darren’s sentence.

“Not what I was going to say exactly but, something like that perhaps.” Darren chuckles and it is the sweetest sound to Chris’s ears. He curls his fingers around Darren’s bicep, feeling the strength in the muscle and the tightness of the cotton under his fingertips. Darren moves easily closer to Chris and with just the touch of a finger, Chris gently tips Darren’s head back, taking a moment to look at him in the low-light of his room, face back and open for Chris, clearly wanting from him. This is what Chris sees in his mind at night, every night, when he is alone aboard Esmia: Darren, openly wanting for him, anyway he can get it.

Chris leans over him, enjoying how small and compact Darren’s body is against his own as he presses his lips to Darren’s. His tongue comes in, teasingly opening Darren’s mouth which is only too happy to respond. They’ve both done this enough to know the other and what they like and it isn’t long before the kiss changes, as it always does. Between the walk from the living room into the bedroom the kiss changes from soft and sweet to needy and desperate. Chris’s hands pull eagerly at the tight shirt wrapped around Darren’s body, Darren jerks hard on the belt holding up Chris’s pants. Clothing comes off, scattered in a trail to the bed as Darren pushes Chris down and climbs on top of him.

Chris has been with other men before, he’s even been with other Companions and each time was nice. It was pleasant and it got the job done and left Chris feeling sated and fairly happy. With Darren, though, Chris feels like his skin is on fire and he feels like he needs too much. His hands scramble on the back of Darren’s back, trying to pull him ever closer, trying to wrap himself around and inside Darren until they can’t be pulled apart.

“Please, I need--” His voice is strained even to his ears as he pants for breath.

“I know, I know.” Darren is quick to respond before covering Chris’s mouth with his own, his hands moving to find the things they need. He makes quick work of it and it doesn’t take long before his hands are steadying himself on either side of Chris’s head as he lowers himself onto Chris. Like this, with Darren’s face is right above his, Chris can see the individual flecks in Darren’s eyes and feel the warmth of Darren’s breath on his skin as he pants. Chris wraps his hands around Darren’s hips, fingertips digging into the fleshy curve of his ass to hold him close as Darren rides him up and down.

The air grows thick and humid between them, their mouths open, lips occasionally catching as they move. Darren’s movements grow faster, his pace increasing as they both get closer and closer to completion.

“Darren, please--” Chris pants, openly begging. Darren quickly shushes him and begins to push down hard on him, the fleshy smack of his ass on the top of Chris’s thighs loud in the otherwise quiet room. All Chris needs is Darren, the tight vise of his body around his cock and the way he looks, sweating and open above him and Chris is throwing his head back and crying out loud as he comes. His entire body jerks and moves with him, Darren skilled enough to ride his orgasm, his thighs and hips moving along with Chris’s own.

Chris pants, laying on the bed exhausted as he watches Darren’s hand move over his own cock, quick and fast and then he’s crying out and coming over Chris’s skin. Chris pulls him down to lay on top of him, lips brushing over heated skin and hands running down Darren’s sweaty back. It is messy and dirty as it always is with Darren and Chris thinks it’s perfect. Pretty soon Darren will get up and clean them both off and they will curl up together, Darren around him and holding him as Chris gets his first good night of sleep since the last time he was in Darren’s bed but for right now, Chris is happy to stay just like this.

*

The dim light coming into the quarters and up on the bed is soft but enough to wake Darren. The large wall screens amplify the morning light from the nearby dwarf star, making it brighter and closer to something Darren is used to from his time spent on Terra in the companion academy. Next to him, Darren can feel Chris, still breathing in deep and slow as he sleeps. Darren never wanted to take this assignment in Holegn but for moments like this, for mornings spent with Chris, it has been worth it.

Darren turns gently on to his side to face Chris, reaching out with one hand to gently trace over the features on his face while Chris continues to sleep. Mornings after Chris’s ship docks in at Holegn are always free for Darren to do whatever he wants. He’s never mentioned it to Chris and isn’t really sure if Chris notices or not but Darren appreciates being able to have the time to themselves. Darren enjoys slowly waking Chris, letting him bask in the sunlight that he can not get when on cargo runs and relax into the soft bed that is so different from the cramped, hard bed Chris keeps on Esmia for himself (despite the number of times Darren had tried to convince him to change it, Chris always insisted that it didn’t matter, he didn’t have anyone else to take into account and it was cheap).

He likes making Chris feel good, likes to make him feel _happy_ and wants to be the one to make him feel fulfilled. True, companions do care about bringing their clients pleasure and consider it a point of professional pride to bring complete happiness to their clients, but Darren knows, deep down, this isn’t a part of that. The desire Darren has to make Chris happy, the joy he gets at seeing how wide Chris can smile, at how bonelessly limp he goes from relaxing and trusting Darren, at how the lines around Chris’s face from sleeplessness and worry soften from pleasure and laughter with Darren-- those desires aren’t born from professionalism at all.

Darren knows he likes Chris; he likes him more than as a client but actually _likes_ him. He enjoys being around Chris, enjoys talking with him about anything and basks in being able to make him _laugh_. He savors the time they have together, it never is a lot with Chris taking as many cargo runs as he, and Esmia, can physically handle. And every time he leaves, a wry smile and an unspoken promise to return soon, Darren has to bite down on his tongue to ask to go with him. Darren knows that there are plenty of cargo runners who have their own companion travel with them, it’s a fairly common practice. Darren also knows that it is expensive to buy a companion for personal use and despite the incident and shipment of him out to the Uncharted Territories and to this tiny hell, Darren is aware of how expensive his contract would be to purchase for personal use.

(Besides, ultimately, Darren isn’t sure if Chris would want to buy out his contract and make him a personal companion.)

He leans in closer to Chris, just the thought of not having him for the few nights he does, enough to feel that needy tug in his belly to remind himself that for now Chris is here, in his bed. Beside him, Chris snuffles and shifts on the bed and Darren takes his queue from that. He slips over Chris’s body and slides down the bed and under the plush duvet until it is covering him completely. They both fell asleep last night naked and with minimal clean up but Darren doesn’t mind, not with Chris, he relishes any and every taste of him he can get.

Under the duvet it is hazy and humid but Darren settles in with Chris’s legs cradling his body. His hands run up and over Chris’s hips, the bones too prominent for Darren’s liking, before smoothing up over Chris’s belly. His head dips down and he begins to lick ever so gently at the soft skin in between Chris’s thighs, the taste of salty sweat combining with a hint of something just a bit bitter to hit the back of Darren’s tongue and stay there. It tastes like them together and Darren continues lapping at Chris’s skin, just to taste more. He begins to nose up higher, pushing Chris’s slowly thickening cock up to rest against his belly as Darren’s tongue moves to lick at the spot right behind his balls. It is a bit muskier here and Darren moans quietly into Chris as his tongue laps back and forth, savouring the taste.

As he moves forward, Darren takes Chris’s balls in his mouth, gently sucking one and then the other, releasing the left one with a gentle pop from his mouth before attaching his lips in the spot between the base of Chris’s cock and his balls. The skin there is more bitter than salty, a remnant from the night before and the mess Chris made and Darren does moan, unable to keep it in this time. His tongue rubs over and over, swirling around the base of Chris’s half chubby dick just to be able to taste a bit more of them. It’s a heady flavor, one that sticks in Darren’s mouth and goes right down to pull at the bottom of his stomach and make his own dick swell.

Chris is beginning to shift and stir above and Darren doesn’t waste time to wrap his lips around the head of Chris’s cock and slide them down. Chris’s legs shift and his chest rises as he breathes in hard, Darren watching what he can from his spot under the duvet. Chris seems to be making no move to stop him or pull him off, so Darren continues, eyes to the top of the covers as his lips slide back up to the fathead, his tongue running along the underside before he slides it back to the top to lap over the weeping slit, swallowing down what he can. That little bit of suction is enough to draw a quiet groan from Chris and Darren wraps his lips tighter around the head and begins to suckle harder on Chris until his dick is leaking continuously, letting Darren swallow hungrily.

Chris gasps loud above him and Darren doubles his efforts. He slides a bit up the bed, one hand wrapping now around the base of Chris’s cock as he begins to bob his head in earnest. One of Chris’s hands comes down, sliding into Darren’s curls and _tugging_ and Darren groans around his mouthful of Chris’s cock. Chris knows what that tugging does to him. Chris’s other hand comes down, both fingers tangling in his hair and Darren relaxes, allows Chris to tug and hold him in place as his hips move and thrust up into him. Darren relaxes his throat and lets Chris’s cock slide down as far as it can go and back out again. Chris’s fingers curl tighter in his hair, tug harder on the curls and his dick twitches in response.

It doesn’t take much longer for Chris, he pumps his hips in Darren’s mouth half a dozen times, Darren swallowing around him each time he deep throats him and then Chris is crying out above him, his voice muffled through the duvet and he’s spilling hot and heavy and thick on Darren’s tongue. Darren swallows quick and greed, taking as much as he can before popping off and licking at the last sluggish pulse of come sliding down Chris’s cock.

Darren licks his lips as Chris’s hand slides from his hair, wrapping around his arm to tug him back up out of his cocoon and back into the simulated morning sunlight. He blinks, eyes readjusting to the brightness and his skin pimples, the air much cooler and drier than it was under the blanket. His hair's a mess, he’s sure, but he smiles wide at Chris. He feels his own arousal still thrumming through him but in the background, it can wait.

“What, I can’t-- I mean, are you-- what--” Chris babbles, eyes wide and staring at him.

“Good morning,” Darren replies, shifting and moving until their hips are lined up together, Darren’s hard cock lined up in the groove by Chris’s hips, Chris’s spent, over-sensitive cock now resting against where Darren can feel it against his thigh.

“Yeah,” is all Chris is able to say yet but he gives Darren the biggest, widest grin and that says enough for him. Darren hums happily, tucking his face into the curve of Chris’s neck and breathes him in. He smells like sweat and man and ever so slightly like the sickly sweet smell of Alterna hyperdrive oil. Darren mouths at the skin right there on Chris’s neck as his body begins to rock slowly. Chris’s arms come up around him, holding him close as their legs tangle together. Darren reaches one hand down to find the duvet pooling around their waists and tugs on it until it is up and over their heads. He pulls back, looking down at Chris in the shadowy sunlight and smiles.

“You’re feeling good this morning,” Chris says, laughing.

“Mm, I do enjoy waking up with an attractive man in my bed.”

Chris’s warm smile dims slightly but Darren quickly swoops in, pressing his lips to Chris’s before he tries to say something to ruin this moment. Darren doesn’t want to think too far outside of this moment and being with Chris now when it is just his time to do with as he wants. “With you in my bed,” he mumbles against Chris’s lips in case the intention still isn’t clear to him.

Chris groans and rolls on top of Darren, pushing him down into the bed. The duvet twists around them, still keeping them shrouded from the outside world and secure in this time together. Chris’s hand comes down to cradle Darren’s face, tilting him back so Chris can slide his tongue in, claiming Darren’s mouth in a deeper kiss.

Darren’s mouth slides open to Chris’s tongue as his hips open wider for Chris’s body, his legs wrapping around Chris’s hips until they’re entwined again. They stay that way, trading kisses and moans long enough for Darren to feel Chris stiffen against his thigh again. Chris buries one hand in Darren’s hair, tilting his head up to have a better angle to kiss him as his other hand grabs onto Darren’s thigh, holding it tight as Darren has it wrapped around his waist. Chris begins to rock slowly into Darren as they kiss, tongues tangling as hips bump and cocks slide together.

“Fuck--” Darren pants hard into Chris’s mouth. He’s been hard since he slid down the bed to lick and suck at Chris.

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, beginning to rock faster, his hips pushing down harder, pressing Darren into the bed.

“Like this…?” Darren reaches down with both hands, grabbing Chris’s ass and pulling, wanting to feel him solid and rough against his own cock. The space between their bodies is hot and slick with sweat. Their cocks move and slide together, adding to the delicious friction.

“Yeah,” Chris growls quietly and it is the hottest thing Darren has ever heard from anyone. He moans, his head falling back and Chris’s mouth attaching to the base, sucking and biting as they grind together under the covers. It doesn’t take long for Darren, being so close to the edge already, as Chris’s lips skitter over his collarbone and Chris bites down on his shoulder at the same time as he rolls his hips down, his cock rubbing hot and slick and wet against Darren’s, that’s all he needs. Darren cries out, eyes slamming shut and his body going rigid tense as he comes between them. Chris groans, watching Darren before he begins to move frantically on top of Darren, humping and rubbing until he’s coming again, alongside him.

Chris slumps on top of him, his body boneless and obviously exhausted. Darren wraps him up, arms and legs around him and holds him close. He has to work, but it isn’t until later, and Chris needs to check on Esmia, but he can let Brian handle it this morning. For now, Darren just holds Chris close to his body, letting him get as close as possible as they both slip back into sleep.

*

The next time Darren wakes he is alone. The duvet has been pushed down his body and the light coming in is stronger and warmer than it had been a few hours ago. Chris’s pants still lay on the floor in between Darren’s living room and his bedroom so Darren knows he is, at least, nearby (unless he is out roaming Holegn’s halls sans-pants, which Darren does doubt). He sits up and pushes the duvet off when he hears the shower running, a reminder that Chris will have to get ready and leave soon.

Darren makes his way into the small bathroom and slides into the shower behind Chris who doesn’t even seem surprised to feel arms wrap around him.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” Chris turns in his arms, his hair sculpted into a ridiculous soap-filled mohawk on his head.

“Bed’s cold without you in it.” Darren cracks a smile and reaches up to re-style his hair when it begins to droop slightly. Something flashes across Chris’s face too fast for Darren to recognize it but Chris is grabbing at the soap and spinning Darren around and soaping him up.

“I need to check on Esmia’s drivers. Brian said that he had a way to fix them last night but if he was lying again, well, I need to see what I am going to be able to fix with the money I have from the last trip.” The comment surprises Darren; they never really talk about money, not since the first time Darren saw Chris standing in Holegn’s tiny, deteriorating bar, exhausted off a long trip with red-rimmed eyes and slightly jaundiced skin from being too long onboard a ship in hyperdrive and Darren was pulled over to him, just wanting to help him find a moment of peace.

The conversation then didn’t even take much. Chris was half out of it Darren is sure, his eyes wide and staring and his body following behind slowly as Darren took him back to his quarters where he could care for him better. Since that night, they’ve never spoken about how much Chris pays for Darren’s companionship on board Holegn but Darren is aware how little money Chris does have and he knows that what little he does make on each cargo run goes back home to Terra and to his sister, leaving him very little to work with for himself or Esmia.

If Darren was a better man, he’d make Chris swear to stop spending money on buying him for a night and use it for himself, but that would mean Darren wouldn’t be able to see him and … Darren isn’t a better man.

“I’m sure Brian will be able to do something with her drivers.” It’s paltry sentiment, but Darren really doesn’t understand much about the mechanics of a ship except for how to find his way around one and that he likes them more lavishly furnished than what he’s living with.

Chris snorts, turning them so that Darren is now under the spray. “Doubt it, stupid Cat.” He presses a kiss to an exposed shoulder and slips out of the shower from behind Darren. Scrambling, Darren rinses himself off and follows him out of the bathroom, grabbing a towel as an afterthought to wrap around his dripping body.

“I’m sure by the time I get there I’ll find Brian having made a mess of all the wires and batting them around the bridge,” Chris grumbles, struggling into his pants. “Which will mean I’ll have to detangle them and re-wire the whole damn thing again by hand as fuck all I’m gonna pay a guy to do that and I’ll _definitely_ miss the next shipment out.” He stands, grabbing his boots and pulling them on angrily and all Darren can really do is stand there and drip onto his expensive parquet floor.

“I’m sure Brian’s not done anything so drastic,” Darren tries but all he gets is a grunt from Chris in reply. It’s a drastic change from how they were earlier this morning. Darren’s pretty sure he knows why, the cost of everything weighing so heavily on Chris’s shoulders and Darren wishes he could do something to help him out but he knows Chris won’t accept any monetary help. Instead, Darren goes to Chris, a hand on his shoulder before it slides around his body. “I’m sure Esmia is fine,” he says again, quieter this time and Chris stills against him. “I’m sure Brian can fix the drives and you’ll make it in time for your next run.” He presses a kiss to the bit of bare skin he can see on Chris’s arms, right along his biceps where his shirt sleeve is pushed up. Finally Chris slumps and relaxes against him. Darren counts it as a win.

“Yeah. I just … hate dealing with this.” Darren agrees quietly and presses another kiss to Chris’s arm, giving his body a squeeze. “Right, I’m gonna… go see what trouble Brian’s got himself into.” Darren lets his arms drop as Chris grabs his jacket, sliding it on and then adding his blaster belt.

*

Chris’s boots ring out loud in the otherwise quiet halls as he hurries towards his ship and hurries away from Darren’s quarters. He needs to put as much distance between himself and Darren as he can right now. Waking up in Darren’s bed is always difficult but this morning was … different. Worse than it usually is. Every morning he wakes in Darren’s bed is perfect and then Chris fully wakes up and realizes that this is not where he belongs, no matter how good and right it feels. He has to keep in his mind that he is not the only man to wake up there and no matter how normal it may be in their society for companions, Chris still hasn’t come to terms with it.

It’s not something he’s really ever brought up to Darren, how could he when he happily pays money over fist to get the privilege of even a night with him? How is he supposed to casually bring up that he dislikes companions, he dislikes the idea of Darren being a companion, of Darren having other clients and Chris just being one of many? Being selected to become a companion is a cause for celebration in most families. It is an honourable and highly sought after profession that only a select few are trained for. How is Chris supposed to say to Darren that despite that, despite what society says, he hates it? Especially when that is who Darren is.

Chris growls and kicks at a stray bolt on the floor, watching it bounce and clatter satisfyingly down the hallway. He’s old fashioned, he knows that. Most people his age jump from one partner to another with no real consequence or desire for more. But Chris needs more than that, he wants more than that, and he wants it from Darren.

Chris enters the hanger, still growling to himself. He’s frustrated with his life and with so many situations he’s got himself stuck in and the perfect start to this morning is only highlighting how very stuck he is.

“Brian, you had _better_ not have un-wired the entire bulkhead!” Chris climbs on board Esmia, looking around for the cat. There is no response and Chris pushes into the ship further. “Brian?” A soft clang comes from somewhere above him and to the left and Chris sighs. He can only imagine what Brian is getting into in his ship.

Grumbling to himself, Chris hurries down the hall before he presses a hand to a wall panel. A light flashes green and the panel opens up revealing wires, a bank of servers and to the far right a tiny ladder.

Chris hates climbing into the bowels of his ship, that’s what he got a cat for. He wouldn’t say he’s claustrophobic necessarily, he’s able to stay inside his tiny quarters on Holegn just fine, but the closeness and the heat and the wires that surround him everywhere he goes inside the ship make him jumpy.

“Brian you had better be actually working up here,” Chris calls and far ahead he can hear mocking laughter. Steeling himself, Chris finishes climbing until he’s in the nexxus of the ship, the central hub where everything processes from. Brian sits at a console, surrounded by wires and tubes running from into a large, hexagonal structure. Three holographic screens shimmer in the air in front of Brian displaying a series of numbers and letters in configurations that Chris can’t keep up with. Brian lifts one paw, a nail flicking out to scratch something in the air and change one of the formulations. The screen on his right changes slightly to show the corrected formula and lights over on the far side of the hexagonal data center shift from mauve to green.

“So… That looked good?”

Brian snorts and continues to ignore Chris’s presence. Chris rolls his eyes, moving over next to him and making himself comfortable as he watches the minute adjustments Brian makes on a few loose wires. Chris is quite used to Brian ignoring him most of the time, only really paying him attention when he wants to or when food is involved.

Chris grabs a spanner from a toolbox near Brian’s tail and climbs through the piles of wires and tubes to a panel on the far side of the nexxus hub. Prying it open, Chris can see a series of crystals, some mauve and some yellow but none of them flashing clear like they should. It is going to take him hours to re align all of the crystals and get them working right and that is if they are all still working right.

“I haven’t even bothered with that yet,” Brian says, tail flicking back and forth irritably as he flicks through a few more hologram screens. “We need to isolate what the problem is with this drive first. It’s fairly new and Alterna’s shouldn’t burn out like this. I think there is something wrong with the configuration of how it was made but I am having trouble with this code.” Brian flicks a few more nails out from his paw and swipes angrily at the screen. It disintigrates, a new one popping up in its place. “Who even _wrote_ this program?” There are a few more choice words muttered under his breath that Chris can only guess to. “I _told_ you not to buy the drive on the black market but _noo Brian, we’ll save **money** Brian_.” There is more grumbling that Chris rolls his eyes at. Even if the drive is programmed poorly it had been a deal and it isn’t like Chris can afford to buy and install a _new_ drive into Esmia, for one he’d have to upgrade half of her parts just to be able to sync with it.

“Well, reprogram it,” Chris says with a shrug.

“Oh like it’s just _that_ easy!” Brian turns to glare at Chris, tail thrashing back and forth beside him.

“You said it _would_ be that easy,” Chris reminds Brian. “You specifically said two days ago when the drive was showing signs of failure that it would be no problem for you at all to fix this even, and I’m quoting here, ‘if I have to reprogram the whole drive myself’. You just didn’t want to get up from your nap to check on it.” Chris glares at Brian for good measure.

Brian glares back, ears flattening to his head. He whirls around, tail still moving back and forth as he hunches over his screens and the hexagonal drive, furtively scratching at a few wires. Chris sighs and returns to his panel of crystals, spanner still in hand. Brian is right, there is no use putting these crystals in the right order if the programming is all borked to hell. Still, he could at least check to see if any of them are broken and if they’re really screwed. Chris settles in, picking up a spanner and grabbing the first crystal to begin checking through them all.

*

Holegn has only one bar on the station; the cargo runners that frequent the station call it Usquebaugh, naming it for the alcohol that flows most readily at the bar. It is a small, run down place with low lighting and a janky piano at the front. And while it can not compare with some of the concert halls and glittering clubs that Darren saw on Terra or Serenisq, there is a sort of junky charm to the place. Darren assumes it’s that or Stockholm syndrome has set in and he's beginning to actually like the backwater station he was relegated to after the incident. Just thinking about it sets Darren's teeth on edge and his fingers pounding down on the piano keys that much harder.

Five years ago Darren was a perfect companion based on Terra with a wonderful client list. He liked his job as a companion then, he was good at it. The masters that taught him all spoke highly of his natural gift for charm and a desire to please, it was what got him into the program in the first place. While training, Darren had quickly fallen in love with music and when available, had trained to be a companion with specialized musical training. He had a gift.

When he had graduated from his apprenticeship, he did so with glowing reviews from the masters that taught him and the clients he worked with, all praising his natural .

He had his pick of clients and would accompany them to all of the most prestigious events. He was paid ridiculous sums of money, outfitted in the nicest, most up-to-date fashions and spent his time as leisurely as he liked it.

Companions were highly trained social escorts, capable of maneuvering through the most dangerous social situations.

*

Darren’s fingers slide over the smooth piano keys as he picks out a slow melody. Most of the patrons coming into the bar are looking for a pick me up of some kind (whether the musical, fluid or carnal), but Darren isn’t in the jaunty, uplifting mood. Chris had practically run out of his quarters earlier without any explanation to why. Darren lives his life not to overthinking things but Chris, his mind can’t help but spin out of control.

There is another clink at the bar, another patron, and Darren lifts his head enough to see who it isn’t before returning to the song he’s playing. Usually, he plays something he can sing to, a melody to get people in the mood and allow him to find a client for the evening. Tonight he isn’t interested in finding work.

It’s hard to work up the desire for work when he’s spending so much energy sulking. Darren wants Chris to come back. Selfishly, he wants to have another night with him (nights with Chris are some of the best sex he ever has and some of the best conversation). But more than that, Darren wants to find out what happened this morning.

(Deep down Darren thinks he _knows_ what the problem was this morning. He just really doesn’t want to confront it. If the problem is what he thinks it is… he isn’t sure what to do with that. There are so many rules and regulations with his job, so many things he isn’t afforded with the luxury of his position, that, if it is what is causing the problem, it has the potential of throwing a huge spanner in everything.)

Darren switches songs as the bar fills up, something happier but not something he needs to sing along to. A few people have attempted to catch his eye, hoping to have some companionship for the night. Darren’s smiled pleasantly at each of them, friendly but not inviting anything further. He may need to do his job soon, but he is going to attempt to wait Chris out as long as he can.

His attitude doesn’t pick up until there is another clink and murmur of conversation at the bar and when Darren looks up, he finds Chris standing there, talking to Max and getting a drink. Chris is turned, his back to Darren, so all he can really see is the cock of Chris’s hips as he leans against the bar and the curve of his tight leather pants over his backside.

Darren is so distracted, his fingers slip and hit the wrong keys, the piano letting out a loud, discordant noise that makes much of the conversation in the bar pause. “Er, sorry everyone,” Darren says, feeling a bit embarrassed as he gives them all an apologetic shrug. “Fingers slipped.” There is a smattering of chuckles before the conversation grows again. Darren keeps his eyes trained on Chris but the man doesn’t turn, just stays facing the bar, drink in hand.

Darren finishes playing the song he’s on before announcing he’s going on break and slipping away from the piano. A few customers try once again to catch his eye, but Darren ignores them, making sure to slip up to the bar unaccosted.

“So, was the ship a shamble of tangled wires?” Darren leans into the bar beside Chris, keeping his voice low and directed only at him. He can see the way Chris’s shoulders tighten, his whole body going rigid for a moment before he seems to forcibly relax. Darren wants to comment, but he isn’t sure what he can say.

“No, thankfully she was in the same condition I left her in, broken.” Chris turns against the bar, his body curled in towards Darren. He grabs for his drink, knocking some of it back before motioning to Max for another.

“Broken? So, he couldn’t fix the drive?”

Chris snorts and shakes his head. “Drive can’t be fixed. We’re going to Tashi’s Station tomorrow to get a new one.”

Darren doesn’t know much about ships but he does know that Tashi’s station is quite a ways from Holegn and that purchasing a whole new drive sounds expensive. Expensive in a way he knows Chris probably can’t do.

Darren rests a hand on Chris’s arm, fingers curling around him as he tugs, pulling Chris away from the bar. Chris resists enough to grab his drink before allowing Darren to pull him out of the bar and into an alcove down the hall. It is quiet here and without anyone around to watch them, Darren feels more at ease. His hand slips from Chris’s arm to his hips, fingers gently curling around the hip bone he can feel through the thick leather of Chris’s pants. “So, you have to leave in the morning? That means you’re free tonight?”

Chris grunts, closes his eyes and finishes off his drink.

Darren moves a bit closer into Chris’s space. His hand slides from hipbone around to his backside. His fingers find a spot where Chris’s shirt rides up in the back from his blaster holster and there is a sliver of skin between the softness of his shirt and the slick of his pants. His fingers trace over that spot slowly and he’s rewarded with Chris full body shivering in front of him.

“Yes,” Chris finally answers and Darren breaks into a smile. “I mean, no, I mean--” Chris steps back, out of the alcove and away from Darren. He shakes his head and when he looks back to Darren, every part of Chris’s body is stiff, harder, rigid. “I mean, yes I’m free tonight but no I’m not… free for you.”

That feels like a slap in the face. Darren’s face must have shown his shock as Chris does relax slightly and try again. “I just… I can’t. I have to buy a whole new drive for Esmia or she won’t even make another long cargo haul. The drive itself is going to cost more than what I made on my last run and I still don’t know how I am going to buy it. I would love to spend tonight with you again but I can’t _afford_ it and you…”

“... I can’t work for free,” Darren finishes, his voice quiet. It is one of the requirements of his job; he is lucky enough to be a companion but he is unable to not charge clients when he’s on the clock. ‘It’s all about supply and demand’, Darren heard at school. ‘If the client doesn’t think what you have in supply is limited, than we can not demand what we do for it’. It was a lesson Darren never thought too hard on until now.

“Yeah.” Chris’s shoulders slump defeatedly before stepping back away from the alcove and away from Darren.

Darren looks away, down the hall where a wall screen shows the skyscape outside of Holegn. There is so much he wants to say to Chris, but at the moment Darren just feels suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted. This dance they have going on can't sustain itself for much longer. Though perhaps Chris has already saved them both from it with this trip to Tashi Station. Darren wraps his arms around his middle and moves away from Chris and from the wall.

"Well, I have to go..." Darren trails off, jerking a thumb back to the bar. No matter how he feels right now, Darren is working. He turns away before he has a chance for Chris to react (or for him to see Chris _not_ react) and returns to the bar.

*

Despite knowing that Chris had limited funds, despite knowing that there was no other way to continue to see him but through the few furtive nights they had together when Chris had the money and was docked in station, Darren still hoped that somehow...

He always wanted to be a companion. He wanted to be in front of crowds and in front of people. Darren had a talent for charm and nothing made him so happy as a child as pleasing other people and getting attention from it. After everything that had happened, however, Darren wants nothing more now than to be a personal companion. His personal companion. And no matter how silly or far-fetched it was, Darren always secretly hoped that maybe Chris would _want_ him to be his personal companion. There was no other way for Darren to retire, not as a companion. It was either through age or through personal contract that he would stop doing his current job.

It seems so clear to him, now, that as much as Chris does enjoy his time with Darren, does enjoy being together, that buying his contract was never something that was going to happen. The more Darren thinks about it, the more he wonders if it is something that Chris would have ever wanted. Chris had made his opinions on companions very clear from the beginning. He hated that there were other clients, that Darren would spend time with other people, and with the scars that crossed over Darren's back, it only served as evidence of the others that had been with him.

Darren shudders and grabs at the glass in front of him. It is overfull of bright amber whiskey, a friendly concession from Max the ever ready bartender. Darren must have looked enough like shit when he returned for a free double and for that Darren will be grateful to Max. Behind him the sounds of the bar continue as always and soon enough he will need to turn and continue his work.

A body moves in alongside Darren; a worn beer glass settles on the bar top beside Darren’s own glass. Old hands reach out, flagging Max down and Darren already knows who it is. Franklin, the head mechanic on Holegn, is one of the oldest customers Darren has. His hands are rough and cracked from years spent buried inside ship wires and data centers. One of his eyes is blown white from looking at a supernova explosion and subsequently losing vision from the eye and his hair is a constant state of crazy, brilliant white and never combed. He’s a hell of a character and anywhere else a man of his age would have retired from fixing anything, let alone spaceships. Holegn is where people go when they’d otherwise be forgotten, though. Despite his advanced age and trembling hands and going vision, Franklin continues to run the entire docking bay and mechanical division.  
“You don’t seem to be having a good night son,” Franklin says, as Max finally refills both their drinks.

Darren shrugs and pushes off the bar enough to turn and face him. “Not a bad night, better with you here now.”

Franklin snorts into his beer and shakes his head and that makes Darren actually smile. “Don’t give me none of that bullshit, I know better than that.”  
“Franklin, you wound me.” Darren rubs at his chest, right over his heart but Franklin isn’t buying it and it just makes Darren’s smile increase. He has a soft spot for the older man, he’s a frequent customer, always polite and always tips well.

“You look like you had a few more wounds than the ones I gave you.” Darren forgets how accurately Franklin is at reading people. Or perhaps he just looks that bad right now. Darren shrugs and grunts and reaches for his drink again.

“Come on boy.” Franklin grabs Darren’s glass before he does and pulls it away, taking his own and walking towards the door.

“What--? Where are we going Franklin?”

“You’re a companion aren’t you? Your job is to companion? Well come on son, I’m not paying for you to sit at the bar.” He holds out the usquebaugh Darren had been drinking, shaking it enticingly. “I still have everything set up from the last time you spent time with me.”

“What? Still?” Darren grabs for the drink, taking it and falling into step beside Franklin as they make their way towards his quarters. Darren hadn’t been in the mood to work tonight, especially not after his run in with Chris but, he supposes, if he had to work, Franklin would be who he’d want. Franklin is nice and easy to be around in a way that Darren enjoys. He’s not pushy or demanding and conversation with the older man comes easily to Darren. Perhaps a distraction with a client like Franklin is exactly what Darren needs right now.

“Mm, yup. Had figure out how you did it so fast. Never met a guy able to take me that quickly before. Had to study it, get the feel of it.” Darren snorts as Franklin holds the door open for him.

“Doesn’t matter how many times you study it Franklin, I’m still gonna kick your ass and take your queen.” Darren grins and settles down at the chess table behind black, setting up the game.

*

It’s late as Darren makes his way from Franklin’s quarters. The first game had gone fast, Darren swiping Franklin’s queen in just a handful of moves, but the second game had taken them both a bit longer. They’d broken into the liquor that Franklin had in his own stash and talked and it had been nice. Darren didn’t mention the fears he had with Chris or what he wanted to happen, he was too concerned that talking about it would make the problems more real, but he had almost wanted to and that was something new.

(Darren had still won the second game much to Franklin’s dismay. He had grumbled loudly about upstart companions who don’t know how to properly allow their client to win and waved him off with the rest of the bottle. Darren is again reminded why Franklin is one of his favourite clients.)

He still has the bottle in hand as he makes his way past the docking bay where a few lights still flicker in the garish light. He hears voices, quiet but distinct enough for Darren to be able to pick out Brian’s bored grumbling and Chris’s higher tone, higher still in annoyance and anger. There is a loud squawk and shuffling before Darren hears a slam and then quiet. He moves towards the entrance to the bay and peeks around the edge, spotting Chris’s body silhouetted against the garish yellow light still on in the background. He’s bending, putting things into a box and the slump of his shoulders is easy to see.

Darren moves into the bay, his grip on the neck of his bottle tightening as he slips up behind Chris and gently runs a hand over his lower back and then around to his hips. Chris jerks but Darren is expecting it, moving with him and offering Chris a loose smile when he turns.

“Hey.”

Chris frowns. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d have a client tonight.”

It’s not as harsh as Darren is expecting to hear and he suspects that Chris’s heart isn’t in it. He bends to the side, setting his bottle down on the ground by their feet. Chris doesn’t say anything but does raise an eyebrow at it.

"I did have a client tonight." Chris recoils in his arms but Darren doesn't let him pull away. "Franklin wanted another game, seemed to think he could beat me this time."

That makes Chris still. "Franklin? Doesn't he..."

"Pay me to play chess? Yeah." Darren shrugs and smiles again. "He says it’s the only way he's been able to get any good games going around here. It's nice, I like it." Darren moves closer to Chris, his hand squeezing Chris's hips before then sliding up his arm. He feels the muscle firm and strong, the skin soft and dry from the de-humidifiers on the station. His fingers find Chris's hand and they tangle with his own. He tugs on Chris's hand, pulling him in close and wrapping his arms around his neck. Standing like this, pressed together and tucked away from prying eyes, Darren is only too aware of the difference in height. He comes to just above Chris's shoulder, his face perfectly fitting into the curve of his neck. Darren turns his face into that curve before brushing his lips lightly across the skin. His other hand comes up, cradling the side of Chris's face, tilting it slightly so he has better access. His lips run up higher, following the tendon on his neck.

He can't help it. He always wants to reach out for this man.

"What are you doing?" Chris's voice is high and breathy. Darren knows that voice; he has heard that voice so many times. It is the same voice Chris uses when Darren slides down on him and rides him into the mattress. It is the same voice he used last night and it was the same voice he used this morning, the one that says he is unbelievably turned on.

"Indulging myself," Darren admits too honestly. Chris groans, quiet in the bay but it still hits Darren to the core. He curls closer to Chris, nips his way up the pale column of his neck to that spot right under his jaw. His tongue slip slides back and forth before he nibbles on the sensitive skin there.

"You can't... I can't pay..." Chris is panting, eyes closed and head falling back to completely allow for Darren's exploration. "We ... discussed this earlier..." He keeps trying to focus, Darren will give him that but that means he just needs to try harder.

"No one said I couldn't give you a little preview of my expertise, in case you were debating of partaking in my ... talents." Chris groans again and turns his head, capturing Darren's lips this time in a hard kiss. Darren returns the kiss, tongue sliding past Chris's lips and into his mouth. The kiss is quick and dirty, both of them pushing too hard and demanding too much.

The kiss slowly gentles until Chris pulls away with a soft, wet smack."We have to leave early," Chris says quietly, sighing when they pull away.  
Darren looks down where their hands are still clasped together. It makes him smile but he knows this isn't going to work for tonight. It's clear from what happened this morning, in the hall and even now that they have a lot to talk about and talk through. More than they have time for tonight and Darren still isn't sure if it is a conversation he wants to have or not.

"You should go," he says finally, stepping back from Chris with a final squeeze to his hand. "I need to go..." He jerks a hand back, pointing to the door. He's off work for the night but it is late and he does need sleep.

"Yeah." Chris makes a face before swallowing it down and nodding. Darren wants to make it better but he can't, not with how things sit right now.  
"Be safe and just ... come back soon?"

Chris swallows hard and nods. “Of course.”

*

Of _course_ buying a new drive on Tashi didn’t go as planned. Chris shouldn't be surprised. He wanted it to be a quick trip: there, get the new drive, get it installed, get back to Holegn and his standard cargo routes and more importantly, Darren.

Instead, he's been stuck on Tashi for the past month with Esmia powered down and in pieces and no way to contact anyone. He hasn't been able to get in touch with his shipment handlers, hasn't been able to contact his sister and certainly hasn't been able to contact _Darren._

Most days he tries not to think about any of his problems ( _especially_ the Darren one) and just concentrates on helping Brian upgrade Esmia as much as they can with what little they have.

They've been on Tashi for so long, Chris has had to send Brian out to work on small jobs during the day to make money. Brian balked until they had run out of food and then he'd been quick to leave Chris's side inside Esmia's hot control room and get out and away from Chris. Most afternoons Chris spent his time on his back under an avalanche of wires, trying to connect one wire to another by hand with a heat spanner. It was tedious, eye-straining work that he'd rather have a bot do but he couldn't afford any of the bots on Tashi and Brian wasn't about to do menial work such as this.  
He worked and strained and put wires together day after day, sleeping in the tiny quarters on board Esmia to save on lodging (they were already having to pay to take up a docking bay anyways, after all) and he scrimped on his food budget, putting bits away to pay for the drive until finally, it was done and paid for. The installation didn't take nearly as long as Chris feared and after the grueling month on Tashi, he and Brian finally had their trip back to Holegn.

Chris contacted each of his suppliers on the way back from the ship. Some were understanding, willing to be flexible and work with him on his next cargo run days, others had not been so kind and had already informed him that they had dropped him from their roster of regular runners. It was going to hurt him money-wise but right now, Chris is too tired to think about it. All he wants is a hot shower, some actual food and the one person he was too afraid of to call from Esmia, Darren.

The thought that he should clean up first briefly enters his mind but it isn't one he can make stay. Darren has been on the forefront of his mind no matter how hard he tries to keep him from there for the past month without any ability of contact or communication and right now nothing is more necessary in Chris's mind than being able to see him.

He briefly stops off at the bar, checking behind the piano but he isn't there and Max is busy with a patron. He moves on, his pace quickening as he makes his way to Darren's quarters. There is a possibility that he won't be there, that he'll be out and with a client (Chris hopes that there is no possibility of him being _in_ and with a client as that was a privilege that Chris held very dear to his heart). The pit in his stomach drops when he does hear voices from the room but the closer he gets the more he can tell it’s laughter. He can clearly pick Darren's bright laugh, loud and clear like a bell and followed by a deeper, gruff grumble. Chris thinks of leaving as Darren does have a guest over but the knowledge that Chris can finally _see_ him after a month of wanting is too strong a lure and he knocks.

The laughter stops and Darren opens his door. His hair is loose and he's in glasses, two things he rarely wears when he's actually working and immediately Chris can feel his stomach right itself.

"Christopher..." His full name and Chris can already tell it’s both a blessing and a warning for how much trouble he's undoubtedly in. He opens his mouth to explain but Darren doesn't give him the chance, just reaches out, wraps his arms hard and tight around Chris's body and pulls him in hard, hugging him. It takes a moment before Chris is able to respond, wrapping his arms tight around Darren and hugging him back. "God, Chris--"

Darren's face buries into Chris's neck and he's pretty sure he can feel the warm prick of tears; this was not the homecoming Chris was expecting at all.

"Well. I think that's my cue here." Chris looks past Darren to see Franklin stand from a table covered in the familiar black and white chess pieces.

"You don't have to-- I'm sorry--"

"Son, don't you worry about it. It's been my job here the past month and now it’s your job." Franklin pats him on the back before moving past them to go out the door and leave them alone together in the middle of Darren's hallway.

It takes a moment after Chris is sure Franklin is gone when he gently tries to pull Darren’s head up but then Darren’s hands are on him, holding him close and cupping his face as Darren’s lips press insistently against his own. Darren pushes his body against Chris’s, pushing until they both fall into the wall behind him. Chris reaches a hand blindly out to shut the door before he begins to kiss back. His tongue slides past Darren’s own, into his mouth to taste and it feels good. This is what Chris has been wanting for so long.

“I was afraid something had happened,” Darren whispers, voice tight with restrained emotion. “Or that you’d left and didn’t want to come back or--”

“No, no, no, no the drive.” Chris rushes to explain. “It was so expensive and our comms stopped working and everything just fell apart and--”

“It’s okay,” Darren rushes to assure him, cutting him off. His lips follow, pressing hard, quick kisses to his lips. “It’s okay, you’re here it’s okay.” They kiss again, slower and softer this time as Darren’s hands travel down his arm, fingers tangling. He pulls away and tugs gently on Chris’s hand, pulling him into his quarters.

“Come on. I think… we need to talk.”

*

Talk was a figurative word. By the time they made it into Darren's quarters, other more pressing matters were making themselves known.  
Chris threads his fingers through Darren's hair, lips pressed hard on his as Darren's hand fumbles behind him for the finger lock. It takes some work and some whining and Chris begins to ride up on Darren's thigh it seems to take so long, but finally the door gives with a whine and a whoosh and they fall forward into the dark interior.

"Darren--" Chris is already reaching out for him, pulling him back in as he hits the button on this side of the wall to shut the door now. It's pitch black for a moment before Darren is able to tear his mouth away and moan out, "on" to bring his lights up so they can see.

"I said-- talking I thought we needed to-- but then you-- oh god your mouth--" Darren breaks off with a loud moan and Chris mentally congratulates himself on being able to reduce Darren to nothing but broken stutters and mental blocks.

"And you call yourself a professional," Chris teases, pulling back with a wet smack.

"You can call me whatever, what was that thing your tongue was doing...?" Darren doesn't let Chris pull too far away from him, keeping his fingers curled into the waistband of his black leather pants.

"You said we needed to talk, then I'll tell you about the tongue thing."

Darren pulls back a bit more to put some space between their bodies and nods. "You're right, of course, I just... with you coming back--"

"I know," Chris agrees.

"Right, talking." Darren finally pulls his fingers out from Chris's pants and Chris misses their heat immediately. Instead, Darren grabs his hand and leads him over to the couch, pulling him down to sit. "I think... things have changed. Between us, I mean."

It's not a bad start but it does make Chris worry anyways. "Change? I mean, like how?"

"Chris." Darren sighs and scoots closer on the couch and that does make Chris relax. "I think things between us have been different for some time... And I think you know that."

Chris sighs and lets his shoulders slump. He knew this was coming. He feels a lot for Darren, more than he should, even in a favourite companion.  
Darren's hand touches his cheek, tilting his head until Darren can catch his eye. "So we just need to figure out what to do about it."

"What to do about it?" Chris is confused and pulls back from Darren. "What _is_ there to do about it? I'm a broke-ass cargo pilot with barely a ship to my name who can't keep his cargo runs and you're... well, look at you! You're a companion and even a companion out in the back-ass waters of here has a buy-out contract so light years outside of anything I can even be able to see to afford." Darren reaches again for Chris but he stands, moving out of Darren's reach as he keeps going. "If Holegn was how much money I had and what we could see from here were things that I could actually be able to afford to buy not even _your_ contract shows up as a tiny, tiny spec of a dot of light in this dark sky." Chris begins to pace, feeling the futility of their situation fully hitting him. He's kept it at bay for so long, pushing it to the back and pushing it to the back that now that Darren has brought it forward, it comes rushing out like a tidal wave of emotions.

"And then there's the fact that I _care_ about you and not the way that old man cares about you no. No. When you say things have changed you mean _me_ , you mean that I've changed. How I _feel_ has changed well Darren, let me tell you. Nothing has fucking changed. I've cared about you for _years_ so if you think that you need to end something here just to save me from acting out or something then spare me. I've cared about you for so long and it hasn't done a thing to change anything so why should it now?"

"I've cared about you too." Darren sits quietly on the couch, staring straight back at Chris, the ends of his lips twitching ever so slightly as if he finds Chris's rant amusing.

"You--Wait, what?"

Darren leans back against the couch and looks at Chris, his eyes roaming up and down Chris's body, taking in his aggressive stance, and Darren's smile widens. "I missed you so fucking much."

It is a fairly abrupt topic shift and Chris physically reels as he tries to keep up. "I thought about you, all the time, by the way." Darren stands up and moves over to the nearby table, picking up a small, leather bound journal. "Thought about you probably more often than I should and I know more often than is healthy. Pretty sure the entire bar is sick and tired of Cgorn's melancholy ballads and are probably close to calling for my head. I can be a bit melodramatic when I pine apparently."

Chris snorts, folding his arms over his chest as he watches Darren move around the room, trying to follow what he's saying and what it means for _them_.

"Franklin is the one to thank. He sort of picked me up, grabbed the back of my shirt and shook me out, helped me set my head on straight and realize what was staring me smack in the face."

"What was that?"

"Woden, Chris, can't you just see it?" Darren gestures between them. "You've cared about me for years and god knows how long I've cared for you. This isn't working right anymore because I love you and that makes my job more difficult and this thing between us a thousand times more frustrating."  
The room goes quiet. Chris is stunned; this isn't at all what he'd been expecting. He knows that Darren cared for him, saw him as a favourite client but he never allowed himself to think it could, or would, go further than that. No matter how much he enjoyed having Darren in his bed, or waking up together or how much he liked just _talking_ with him, he never wanted to allow his mind to think too far about what it _could_ be like.

"I can't pay your contract out," Chris says, his voice quiet in the still room. Because, after everything, after realizing how they feel about each other, that is what matters the most in this all: that Chris can't afford Darren's contract. It doesn't matter what Chris feels for Darren or what Darren feels for Chris, Darren is in a contracted job and Chris will never have the money to pay it out. The realization hits them both hard, settling around them and making the atmosphere sharp, brittle with painful realizations. "So where does that leave us?"

Darren shakes his head slowly, his shoulders slumped now as he stares at a spot on the ground. "I don't know Chris, I don't know."

*

They fall into bed like they always do and if their legs grip tighter or hands pull harder or bodies demand faster than before it’s not surprising. It's exhilarating and exhausting and leaves them both drained in a heap of limbs on the bed. Chris doesn't bother to untangle himself from Darren, he doesn't want to either, instead he remains, sticky from sweat and semen and glued to the other man beside him.

"This doesn't help anything," Darren says quietly, staring up at the stars on his ceiling. Chris's hand is in his hair, tugging gently and playing with the curls that are more pronounced than they were when he left. He tugs until Darren turns his head to look at Chris and he smiles.

"We'll, I dunno, we'll think of something." It is all he has to say because really, he has no idea how to fix this. Caring for Darren was one thing but loving him was something else entirely. It made things ten times better and almost a hundred times worse. Chris had gone so long keeping the hard pounding in his chest when he was around Darren at bay. He didn't want to think too hard about it, look too closely at it, for fear of what that would do. Now, caught in the light, Chris has to acknowledge it for what it is: love. He loves this man in the bed beside him, has loved him for a long time and that he must entertain and companion other people whenever they pay with nothing Chris can do about it to change things, infuriates him.

His hand comes down to stroke Darren's cheek, then run over his lips. His skin always did look amazing in the glow from the starlight, especially after sex.

"Maybe we can rob a bank."

Chris snorts, he's sure Darren means it as a joke but the more he thinks about it, the more the idea begins to grow in his mind. Chris has never really thought about a life of crime, but, well, its not like his life as a law abiding citizen is going all that well at the moment either.

"Actually..." Chris sits up, the blankets pooling around his waist.

"What...? Chris, I was joking." Darren watches as Chris leans over, showing off his perfect, bare bottom as he digs under the bed for a tablet he knows Darren keeps there.

"Aha!" Tugging it out, Chris re-situates himself and turns it on, flipping through screens until he is able to pull up a cargo map. "See, there is a shipment going through one of the minor moons of Gaulph next week, I heard about it when I was on Tashi. It was this big shitshow, usually they route through the bank on Venerys, you know the big one? But apparently they've been having security bugs ever since they installed that new computer software systems that the Martians built."

Darren snorts and rolls his eyes. "Fucking Martians."

"Right? Why they think a planet like Mars can get security tech right I don't even know, but that means that the next shipment was re-routed to one of the tiny, outlying planets. Gaulph is only a tiny hop away from here."

Darren stares at the screen where the dot on Gaulph blinks up at him. "You're serious."

"What? I mean you said--"

"I was joking but you're talking like you _mean_ this." Darren sits up more fully, the blankets falling away completely now.

"Well, I mean it is money--"

"--it's money but I didn't think my joke was going to turn this route--"

"--and I can't afford your contract any other way--"

"--you can not rob a bank of money and then turn around and pay the government for my contract I don't think it will work that way Chris. There is a significant flaw in that plan."

"Okay so maybe we don't do it _that_ way--"

"--you think?"

"--maybe we just rob the bank and... live like that."

"What? We rob the bank and just--” Darren flails around, looking for the right word. “Just become outlaws?"

Chris shrugs. "The amount of money in the bank should be enough for us to live off for awhile and it's not like the cargo transports out here really care about who I am anyways. I could probably make a decent living on top of that with taking some side runs that pay in cash."

"But... your family? You send all your money back to your sister, I know that." Darren reaches out and pushes back a piece of hair that flops right in Chris's face. "I know you never have money for Esmia or food or, well, _me_ , because most of it goes to her."

"Yeah," Chris agrees. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I could probably send her some from the heist though. And after a couple years, the statute of limitations hits, they grow tired of looking for us and I can probably start sending her more."

"Are you actually thinking about this?"

"Why not? Why not just run off together? Who is keeping you here? I mean really, after everything that happened, do you want to be here? Do you want to still be a companion?"

Darren sighs, his head falling back to look back up at the ceiling. He had started this career with a desire to make people happy and be the center of attention. But out here on Holegn he makes few people happy and he is certainly not the center of attention and given how his past relations with customers have been and his own mixed feelings on the Companion Oversight government committee, he really has no desire to stick with this career. Anything to fuck them over like they did sending him out here is great in his book.

"No, no I don't," Darren finally answers, looking down to Chris, shooting him a sarcastic smile. "No. After everything that they've done and everything _I've_ given up and dealt with for this career... No, I don't want to have to give this up too. I've given up everything else for this job and look where it's got me, pushed away where I can't make them look bad so, fuck them, I'm done."

Chris's responding grin is huge. "Fuck 'em," he agrees, reaching for Darren and kissing him hard. Darren laughs into the kiss, falling back onto the bed and pulling Chris down on top of him.

"Fuck 'em, let’s go be bad guys."

*

"So, we need a distraction."

"You're a distraction."

"I'm not _that_ kind of a distraction."

"I don't know, I think you could easily be _that_ kind of distracting."

Darren rolls his eyes at Chris and pulls the tablet back in front of them, on the screen are blueprints with a layout of the bank vault on Gaulph. It took some serious searching, and every bit of Darren's charm and money, to obtain the schematics from reputable sources. They needed layouts that would provide information on weaknesses and potential entrances and exits without tipping anyone off; it was a hell of a job just to find the first, let alone both qualities. Chris sincerely hopes the effort will be worth it.

"Fine, so we'll use me to start with," Darren agrees. He zeroes the map in on the front of the bank, up where the most people are. "So, I'll distract everyone up at the front: I play nice with the guards and flirt with the tellers and you skip past them and into the vaults where they will be unloading the new shipment. You, uh, brandish about your weapon, they give you the money and then we're out of there and back here as fast we can with the squadrons still lightyears behind because who the fuck patrols Gaulph?"

"It's never going to work," Brian sings, interrupting Darren's plan.

"Wōden!" Chris curses, jumping from where he is looking over Darren's arm to see the schematics. His hand hits the tablet, flipping it halfway across the table. Brian leans against the door jam, tail swishing behind him slowly and arms crossed over his chest looking rather disdainfully at both of them. (Though Chris can't be sure that the look of disdain is really for the situation as it is Brian's usual face. He is prone to resting bitch face for his contempt with everything around him.) "How long have you been there? It's quiet as a mouse not quiet as a cat, you should be making noise wherever you go."

"What those rodents? You can't honestly think they're quiet. Have you even heard one? They talk to themselves constantly, always moving around this way and that, their little feet making scratching noises on the floor because they can't be fucking bothered to wear shoes like any decent creature. They are the farthest thing from quiet, can't fucking _stand_ those guys." Brian pushes off of the wall and moves over to the table where Chris and Darren are seated. "So. You're planning a bank heist? And from the sounds of it, a piss poor one at that."

Darren leans back and glares up at Brian. "Oh like you've planned so many bank heists in your nine lives."

"So? I don't need to have planned one to know I can do a better job of it than you two are. Just walking into the bank with a gun? And relying on his good looks to be enough to keep the guards busy? I mean, I know you think he's pretty Chris but he's still _human_ and really just a merely passable one at that."

Darren glares at Brian before shoving off from the table, muttering about needing something to drink before leaving Esmia's kitchen bay to head back to Usquebaugh where he'll be able to wheedle some of the liquid usquebaugh out of Max.

"Well that escalated quickly." Chris crosses his arms and gave Brian a Look. He was all too familiar with the feline's sharp tongue and sharper words, they no longer hit home at all.

Brian shrugs. "He's too soft." Chris rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores it, responding only fuels Brian's commentary and Chris doesn't feel like dealing with it anymore than he must as it is. Eventually the cursor on the tablet is enough to draw Brian's interest and he shifts to get a better view of the plans. "You know, you'd be better off having someone on the inside when the heist went down, it would make things easier to start with."

"Yes, well, as nice as it would be to plant one of our, oh so many, nefarious agents in the bank months ahead of time, I think we may have to scrap that and find a new plan."

Brian snorts. "That's not what I said, I said 'someone inside' as in, inside the actual bank vault itself. Put someone in there after they make the deposit, before it's transferred and they should be able to get the money and then drill through the ceiling for a getaway, the vaults on Gaulph are too old to have pressure sensors to be able to detect the drilling and no one will notice until much later when everything is all gone."

Chris stares at the plans in front of him on the screen and then looks up at Brian. Years he's spent beside this creature in tiny confines with no other company but his and this is the first time Chris can truly say he feels something like affection for the cat. "Brian, you-- I-- That is--" The plan is stupidly simple but that it is so simple is what makes it plausible.

"What?" Brian eyes Chris warily. He pulls away from the table, his tail moving faster behind him.

"I could kiss your beautiful fuzzy face."

Brian makes a face. "Ew. Please don't? I just _bathed_."

Chris makes a face. Somewhere there will be a quokka sized hairball in Esmia's hallways and Chris just hopes he's not the one to find it.

"So the plan works but that means we'll have to find a third to fly the ship so we can get away in time. I don't think we can run in on Esmia without having her engine's idling, she doesn't start up all that fast and yeah the police scanners are going to take time to get to Gaulph but they do have some of their own security and I'd really not like to have to hurt anyone." Chris grabs a pencil from across the table and begins to draw on the tablet, making a list of everything that they're going to need for this plan to work.

Brian scoffs. "A third."

Chris ignores his scoff and the second one after that. From there Brian moves straight into huffy but Chris remains focused on the tablet, drawing out complete diagrams of what a box to hold himself or Darren would need to look like. Finally, Brian grows frustrated and pushes Chris's arm off the table, knocking the pencil from his hand.

"I'm going." Brian doesn't ask so much as state what he is going to do regardless of what Chris wants, as most of their relationship has been since he joined Chris's ship.

"Oh, you want to go?" Chris acts unsure as he plucks his pencil up off the floor. "I don't know. I mean it might be dangerous--"

"Who else are you going to get to fly Esmia if you're going to be going into the vault? Boytoy? The only ends he can tell are the ones on a budong's--"

"--yes I see your point." Chris interrupts. "So you'll fly Esmia down, drop us off and be ready and waiting to pick us up on the roof?"

Brian nods. "Honestly can anyone fly her better than I can?" Chris knows better than to answer that question, especially if he wants Brian's help. "Besides, I may know a few tricks up my fur to get the chameleon circuit working. Might come in handy."

Chris's eyes light up. Having a working chameleon circuit after they leave would make things so much easier on them when trying to lay low. "Really? You think you can fix it?"

Brian shrugs, trying to remain nonchalant but Chris can see the smugness beginning to come out. "I may have had a few chats with a lady cat on Tashi who had a few spare parts and a little extra know-how she didn't mind parting with."

Chris beams. This changes their getaway chances _completely_. "Brian I could kiss you."

"Ugh, I wish you wouldn't. Are you feeling alright, you're being oddly touchy even for a human and we talked about that. Don't you have a boytoy for that sort of thing?"

Chris leans in, grabs Brian's face and forces a kiss to the top of his head. Brian yowls, jerking out of the chair and finding safety across the galley. He licks his paw and rubs it over his forehead as he glares at Chris. "You may have just saved us all."

"Yes well, I don't know if I'm going to do it now."

"You will," Chris says smugly. He knows, Brian will be able to fix it and this way they'll be able to keep from being spotted so easily later.

Brian huffs, his tail puffed up and thrashing behind him. He will fix the chameleon circuit, but he hates being so easily known as Chris knows him. "So, you never even said why we're doing this. I mean, I can figure it out but as your _partner_ in crime I feel you owe me at least the courtesy of an explanation."

"It's Darren--"

"Knew it," Brian calls.

"-- and me, we just... we're tired of things how they are. I'm tired of running these crappy cargo runs making minimal money, trying to send some back to my sister and just surviving on scraps from the man I love. We both are tired of this life and the only way we're going to be able to survive is with a bit of money to help us get started. Besides, pretty sure Darren is owed at least this much for damages. We're just going to help them get it to us faster."

Brian eyes Chris. "So you're doing it for love." He snorts. "Well, it's not good, but it's a reason."

*

Darren had been unsure of Brian's plan at the start, but between the three of them, they were able to work out enough of the kinks that Chris felt certain it would actually work. They had to change some of the plan as, even with Gaulph being a small bank out in the backwaters, there were still life sign detectors on every door and vault that would be able to detect anyone trying to go in and out of the vault. Darren had come up with the fix for that; he had wanted to go to Franklin for help and while Chris had been unsure to begin with, at Darren's insistence, he caved and he had to admit, Franklin knew a lot and it didn't take him long to put something together for them (though Chris was still hesitant to ask _how_ Franklin knew what to do).

It was risky; the drink would slow the heart down enough so that it was undetectable to life sign monitors but that also put the human body in a deep coma. They were going on Franklin's word that it's effects would wear off and not leave the person completely incapacitated (something Chris didn't like doing. He didn't like trusting anyone he didn't know well and he definitely had issues trusting someone that was one of Darren's previous clients, chess playing or not.)

*

"Is Brian back yet?" Darren wraps his arms around his body, shivering in the docking bay as they wait for Esmia's return. The atmosphere guards on Holegn are broken again, leaving half the station freezing, with pipes and crystals snapping in half every two feet, and the other half of the station broiling and circuits overheating. It helps Chris realize that yes, he is done with this place and it's shoddy building structure, with it falling down around him and barely functioning. Chris is going to leave this wretched place for good and he is taking the best thing with him.

Lights in the docking bay begin to flash as Esmia is finally picked up on tracking sensors and it doesn't take much longer for Chris to be able to spot her outside the station. Brian took her out to check her newly repaired chameleon circuit and pick up the old trunk he found on a nearby planet. If they were lucky (and Chris had no reason to believe they would be), this would be the last thing they'd need to get their plan ready.

Esmia flies into the bay and to her assigned spot, landing on the floor with an unsettling lurch and hiss of steam. Chris staggers forward, hands out towards his ship as if he can physically protect her from Brian's erratic driving. "Why did I agree to let him be in charge of the flying?"

"Because you're the one smart enough to get out of the trunk and grab the money. We don't want to leave _that_ part to Brian, god knows what he'd grab if we did, probably a bunch of hamburgers."

Chris snorts and nods, agreeing with Darren as the hatch for his ship slides open, Brian stepping out. "Woden," Chris curses, "No wonder the fucking brakes are going, you can't land for dren." Brian completely ignores Chris, grabbing a trunk and pulling it out.

"That doesn't look like the trunk you showed us on the tablet," Chris says, looking at the trunk critically. It is much smaller than the one they were looking at and quite a bit older; structural integrity is going to be a factor with this one.

"This one is better." Brian stands back and looks at the trunk, it barely comes up to his knees.

"You spent half the money for the trunk buying meat buns on the planet didn't you? And then, this was all you could afford." Chris glares at Brian who doesn't even bother to answer but he doesn't need to. There is a slight stain on the leather belt that goes across Brian's body and Chris is well aware of Brian's obsession with the meat buns on Yeltisdin.

"Well. This is what we got." Darren moves up to the trunk, running a hand over its domed lid. It's old, the hinges showing actual rust and wear in a way that many things don't have anymore. They work the lid open with a bit of creaking and groaning and look inside. It's clean and fairly dry and Chris moves to stand inside but no matter how he moves and tries to sit, there is no way he can curl up and fit inside the trunk without losing significant blood flow through his body, rendering his wake up process potentially problematic.

"Fucking _cat_ ," Chris snarls, kicking the trunk hard on the corner. Brian is smart enough to know he needs to lay low and has slipped off to grab food from Max. "If he hadn't let his fucking stomach rule him, we'd have the right trunk and this would work. Now, we're going to have to find something else and we have even _less_ money than before."

Darren remains quiet, still staring at the trunk.

"I could wring his neck, or at least sell him to make string parts for Leviathan's." Chris is still fuming as Darren steps into the trunk and moves, able to curl up comfortably inside. Chris watches, eyes widening.

"I think we can do this, I'm just going to need to be the one--"

"--no."

"--but I can fit inside the trunk--"

"--no."

Darren stands, still inside the trunk and turns to Chris, glaring at him. " _Christopher_."

Chris squeezes his eyes shut, turning away from Darren to breathe deeply. He knows this is the only way to pull this off now, he just hates putting Darren in this position. Taking another deep breath, he turns back around where Darren is waiting. "I know," he says, shoulders dropping. "I just... You know what is going to have to happen if you do this job, right? It's not just the stealing and blasting your way out, you're going to be knocked into a coma, Darren." Chris's voice strains as he just thinks about Darren, crammed into a trunk and rendered completely lifeless. It hurts him deep inside his chest, a gnawing sort of ache.

Darren relaxes, stepping out of the trunk and reaches out for Chris. He slides a hand across his shoulder and curls around the back of his neck to tug Chris in closer to him. "I know," he says, his voice quiet in the docking bay. "I know because that's exactly how it felt to realize that was _your_ job. But if I have to be okay with you doing it, you're going to be able to be okay with me doing it."

Chris nods, breathing in and moving closer to Darren until they're sharing the same space. "I worry, what if Franklin's done the tonic wrong? What if you don't wake up when you're supposed to or at _all_?"

"I know. But I'll be fine, I trust Franklin and I know he's looking out for us and knows what he's doing." Darren kisses Chris's lips, pulling back just enough to smirk up at him. "Besides, we need to start figuring out how you're going to distract the guards."

*

The plan starts off perfectly; Chris makes it all the way into Gaulph's bank before he runs into trouble. His sources had indicated that the money would be deposited on Gaulph and then the government would send people back to get it later when Venerys was back up, the source never said that the government was leaving behind Peacemakers to watch over everything.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck--" Chris curses quietly to himself.

"What's wrong already? Boytoy wake up too soon?" Brian's voice is quiet and tinny in Chris's ear, on barely coming through the old communication set they got from Franklin before they left.

"No, worse, peacemakers."

"Bast!" Brian curses. "What are you going to do? Leave?"

"I can't they've already tagged my trunk to go into the vault, I can't leave Darren in there." Chris moves into the corner of the room, making sure that his long coat continues to cover the weapon he has tucked into the back of his pants.

"I mean, it's not like we couldn't find another one--"

"-- _Brian_ , not _now_."

"Geez, alright, alright." Chris can hear noises in the background, the comforting sound of Esmia and her scanners. "How long until that dren wears off of him and he wakes up?"

"I don't know, an hour? Maybe more? Franklin wasn't too specific about it just said that it should give him enough time to get in and covered."

"Useful fucking geezer," Brian mutters and Chris is inclined to agree. The unspecified time it takes for someone to wake up from this mixture he created is one of the things that Chris hasn't liked from the beginning but halfway through this plan, they're too late to stop. Chris keeps one eye on his trunk and the other on the three peacemakers that are milling around the bank vault. He keeps out of direct sight, trying to make it look like he isn't loitering as he waits for the trunk to go through the security checkpoint. Once through, Darren will be taken into the bank vaults and there won't be anything Chris can do to help.

The trunk is picked up and placed on a belt where it is ferried across the bank lobby and over to a scanner that will check it before going to the back. Chris keeps an eye on the lights above the scanner, watching and waiting until they flash green and the trunk Darren is in passes through into the back.

"He's in," Chris breathes, feeling his body sag back against the wall behind him.

"Great, I'll swing down and pick you up. We can wait for him to come out up here."

Chris shakes his head. "I can't leave him Brian."

"You can't _do_ anything remember? He's in the back, this is all on him know, Bastet save us all."

"Yeah, I know that," Chris snaps. He doesn't like Brian's tone; Chris has been trying to keep images of Darren dead and cold and pale from his mind and Brian's doubting tone isn't helping. "But I still am not going to leave him until I know he's awake and he's okay."

Brian grumbles before the line goes quiet and Chris knows that he's switched his comm on silent. Fine, whatever. Wouldn't be the first time he's had to deal with a sullen cat while doing a job. Pushing his shoulders back, Chris shakes off the stress he can feel building up in his bones. He needs to keep loose and alert and most importantly, he needs to keep down low.

*

It takes two hours for Darren to wake and it is the most excruciating two hours of Chris's life.

"Chris...?" Darren's voice is tiny and scratchy and Chris can hear it reverberating around the inside of the trunk he's in.

"Fuck, Darren." Chris can feel his entire body relax from where he's been keeping himself stiff and nervous all day. "Woden, it’s so good to hear your voice."

Darren's laugh is rough and quiet but it sounds perfect. "Yours too Chris."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, so happy you two are able to have this moment together."

"I may have even missed your voice Brian," Darren admits and Chris can hear the ever so quiet low rumbling of a purr down the line. "Now, need to get this saw put together..."

"Make sure not to turn it on until you _know_ it is pointed to the top of the trunk," Chris warns.

"Right, yeah, don't try to cut any of my own limbs off, yeah I got it Chris, thanks." Chris goes quiet as he waits for Darren to put together the tiny, low grade saw they had been able to pack into the trunk for him to get out. Each moment seems to take longer before Chris can finally hear the faintest buzzing of a retro saw in his ears and then Darren's triumphant 'Can I get a hell yeah?'

"Yes, yes you can, much later. Hurry up!"

"I'm going! It's dark in here, I don't think we really planned for this part." Chris begins to pace in place, brow furrowed as he listens for anything through the comm.

"Ow, fuck, dren!" Darren shouts and Chris jumps.

"What, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just... stumbled into a block or something here. My legs don't function fully yet, still feel all tingly."

"Well, try not to let anyone know about your presence. The vaults themselves aren't able to read life signs but pretty sure that even a human would be able to hear you if you keep making that much noise," Brian mutters.

Chris is so focused on listening for Darren and trying to get them to stop squabbling, he doesn't notice two of the peacemakers making their way over to him or the one who doesn't, reaching back for his weapon.

"Sir, we'd like you to come with us."

"Uh, what, I, what do you mean...?" Chris is pulled away from where Darren and Brian are still bitterly fighting over the comm's to stare at the large men in front of him.

"We want you to come with us. Slowly."

"Shit, Chris, are you okay?" Darren is in his ear and then Brian and they're both trying to ask him questions but it is hard to hear over the peacemaker talking to him and Chris can't raise suspicions. One of the peacemakers leans over, whispering to the other and their gazes are still fixed permanently to him and their weapons are large and right _there_ and this entire plan has started to go south so fast. What made them think they'd be able to pull off a heist anyways.

"Shit, I think the peacemakers have Chris." Brian actually sounds nervous which might actually upset Chris more than the large, scary men with large scary weapons that are no escorting him towards the back.

"There are _peacemakers_ here??" Darren's voice is so loud Chris is _sure_ the man to his right heard it.

"Uh, yeah, forgot you weren't here for that part. There are apparently some peacemakers here to keep an eye on that stash you should be getting your hands on. Apparently they now have their hands on Chris."

"Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck."

"So eloquently put Boytoy."

"Wodenamn Brian! You've got to do something."

"Me?" Brian's voice goes up two octaves and it makes Chris wince. He tries to hide it as much as possible as the peacemakers are both keeping a firm eye on him as they make their way down the back corridor towards an inner room.

"You're the one with the ship!" Darren explains.

"Yeah, but you're there in the bank!"

"What, you think I'm going to be able to get my way out of here and what, hacksaw them to death?"

"That's true, that's expecting way too much from you Boytoy--"

"Just do something!"

Brian growls, frustrated and angry but Chris just wants them to stop _bickering_. He's clearly gone so far past scared that he isn't even able to comprehend what sort of dren he's in right now.

"Wait here." Chris feels a firm, hard hand on his shoulder that pushes him into a small room with no windows.

"Alright...?" Chris turns and watches the two peacemakers slip out and close the door behind them. He can hear the faint scratching sounds of the lock being turned and Chris definitely knows he's in deep shit now.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--"

"It's okay, it's okay babe, we got this," Darren says, keeping his voice as soothing as he can. He really has no idea if it’s going to be okay but they've got to keep calm to get out of this.

"No, no, we so don't have this."

"No, no we're fine. Brian's got it."

"Oh, _Brian’s_ got it, _great_. You're stuck locked in a twenty-inch thick ziiconium vault in _the dark_ with just a hacksaw and one pulse launcher and I'm locked in the inner sanctum with two heavily armed, and might I add expertly trained, peacemakers standing guard outside my locked door but oh no, we're fine! Why? Because _Brian_ will save us. Brian the cat more passionate about meat buns and crystals than trying to be a hero and save the day! Oh, let's just leave it up to _Brian_ I'm sure he'll come up with _something_ \--!"

"Snarking about it isn't going to help the situation any you know," Darren points out, his voice entirely too calm for Chris's liking.

"Yeah, well, snarking makes me feel better." There is no one else in the room with them so Chris indulges himself in crossing his arms over his chest and _sulking_. He knew they wouldn't be able to pull this off, he wanted them to be able to but secretly, he knew that they wouldn't. It would mean he'd be able to have too many things he wanted and if his life had taught him anything up until now, it was that he never got what he wanted.

But there - ever so faintly, Chris could hear the low rumblings of something. The noise wasn't much of anything, the walls around where Chris is are thick and block most noise.

"I think we need to focus and think about how we're going to--"

"--sh!" Chris cuts Darren off, moving closer to the door as if it would make his hearing better. "I can hear..." He trails off as there is another low rumbling and Chris can almost feel the ground shake beneath his feet. He waits a few moments and the noise is louder this time, the ground and walls around him definitely rattling with the force of the noise.

".... I think _I_ heard something that time."

Outside the door, Chris can actually hear people screaming and shouting and it doesn't take much for Chris to know that no matter what it is, this is his opportunity.

"Darren, Darren do you have the money?" Chris asks quickly, his voice hurried with excitement as he reaches back to grab his own pulse blaster.  
"What?"

"The money! We've gone this far, dear Woden you better have the money."

"Yeah, yeah! I mean, I have some of it--"

"Get it all! Hurry! I'm not going down without a fight, not if I can help it. So long as I can breathe, you and I are getting out of here and we're having that life together, do you fucking hear me?"

Chris can hear Darren panting down the line before a quiet, strangled, "Yes, Sir."

"Good. You've got five minutes then be on the roof!" There is another blast, louder and closer than before and Chris feels the entire building shaking around him. A crack begins to form in the ceiling and this is it, he knows it. The peacemakers are either gone, dealing with something else or taking their job keeping him secure too seriously, either way Chris can't help it. "Woden save you, I'm sorry," he says quietly before aiming his pulse blaster right at the door and shooting. A large square hole is shot straight through, the walls smoking slightly around the newly created exit.

There is another blast and then another, both shaking the walls so hard that Chris has a hard time walking down the corridor. He spots a gun on the ground by a pile of rubble and picks it up, keeping it close. He tries not to think about who might have been carrying it and why they're no longer holding onto the gun, just counts his own blessings as he tries to find an exit.

Another blast hits and Chris can see fire out of the corner of his eye, part of the bank vault is going up in flames around them.

"Brian, you better be nearby Wodenamn it!" Chris runs down the hall, coat briefly swirling out behind him as he takes a turn and then another turn, feeling like he's trapped in a maze.

"Yeehaw little buddies!" Brian cackles down the line before another blast hits. Up ahead Chris spots one of the peacemakers that had apprehended him.

"Stop, you!" The man shouts and draws his weapon but Chris is faster. He's never shot anyone in his life, never had the need to but this isn't just about him this is about Brian and about _Darren_ , about making sure they all get out alive and that Darren gets the life he deserves. He can't think too hard on it before he squeezes and the blaster shoots, hitting the man hard in the shoulder and knocking him back onto the floor. He's not dead, just stunned and paralyzed from the pulse blast and Chris's conscience will take that.

"You two done yet? I'm running out of targets here," Brian grumbles and if Chris could he would strangle the cat (in fact if he lives through this, he might just do that. After kissing his fucking face).

"What are you _doing_ , Brian?"

There is a brief pause before another, closer, blast. "I'm blowing up dren."

"Woden save us," Chris mutters. He turns down another corridor and up ahead he can see stairs that lead to the roof.

"Did you know that Peacemaker ships are unnecessarily large so as to cart prisoners across the Terran empire? And, if you target the center section of the ship, it will cause a chain reaction as first the outer hull is damaged, then the unnecessarily poor combustible fuel source ignites before the weapons bay finally, also, explodes in a beautiful fiery burst."

Chris laughs hard as he races up the stairs to the roof, taking the steps three at a time. "Brian you beautiful animal, I love you." Brian grumbles but Chris doesn't even care.

"Darren you better be close!" Chris shouts as he flings open the door to the roof and stumbles out on top. Smoke billows all around him and Chris can see that the large bank building actually is partially on fire and the far side is beginning to fall already. Chris can also spot a couple crowds of people, clumping together as they run far from the wreckage. Chris nods at them, noting that he can spot almost all of the bank staff and citizens moving away and looking, from his vantage point above them, fairly unharmed.

"Hurry up boys, I'm running out of things to hit and it won't take long before some of that security staff figures out ships to come at me with," Brian warns. Chris can't see Esmia above him and he just hopes that he's close.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm almost--" Darren huffs loud through the comm and then Chris can see a large square hole pop up in the floor to his right. He hurries over and Darren is there, looking sweaty and covered in dirt and using bank vaults to stack on top of each other to climb out.

"Hurry down Brian!" Chris shouts into the comm as he leans down, offering Darren a hand and practically hauling him up and out of the bank. The bag on his back is stuffed full and Chris can't believe it, they might make it out of this after all.

"Ten-four little buddy, Great ship Esmia coming in for a pick up!" Above them the sky is clear but Chris can hear the familiar hurdy-gurdy grind of Esmia's engines. She appears suddenly before them, just on the far side of the rooftop. Behind them the fire begins to spread out across the roof as it goes over the building.

Her hatch opens to the side and Brian sticks his head out, waving to them."Come on!" He shouts and they don't need to be told twice and they're running across the roof. Chris jumps first from the roof and right into Esmia's open doorway.

"Come on, Darren!" He shouts, gesturing for him to jump. Darren takes a moment more to steady himself before he leaps into the ship, falling on top of Chris. Esmia's hatch shuts hard and Brian is already halfway back to the command center to get them back off.

Behind them the fire spreads further, hitting the generator room; Esmia rocks through the air hard as another explosion hits. Chris and Darren hurry after Brian where they can see the bank below them, completely on fire around them.

"Shields are at 78% and the chameleon circuit is running. We're good but we got to _go_ ," Brian says, looking back to Chris. Chris just nods briefly at Brian before stumbling over to a console to help him plot a course for somewhere far off. He isn't quite sure how, but it seems, they pulled off their heist.

  
*

Darren stretches out in his bed, groaning as he arches his back and feels a familiar, faint twinge in his lower back. It's a good twinge, the kind that let's him know that he and Chris had too much fun over the console last night and he's going to be feeling it for almost a week. But it's worth it.  
He reaches a hand out for Chris but finds nothing but cool sheets at his fingertips. Opening his eyes, Darren looks around the room but Chris isn't there and he can't hear the connected bulkhead shower running either.

Grabbing a robe and throwing it on, Darren slides open the door to their captain's quarters to find Chris. (Darren only made the mistake of wandering around naked once and all it took was running into Brian mid-bath in the galley for him to put something on every time he left.)

Darren finds Chris on the command deck, hands on the counter and watching one of the embed holographic screens. It shows footage from a bank fire, a shot of a ship and then an explosion. A woman comes on the hologram, clearly talking but Darren can't hear her. He steps up behind Chris and runs a hand over his back.

"The official report is finally out for Gaulph," Chris says and Darren stays quiet, letting him talk. Chris has followed the news reports on Gaulph obsessively, making sure that they know everything they can about what might happen. "They're counting four official deaths, one is Wayne Meeklo, he was one of the peacemakers that was in the bank."

Chris turns from the console to look at Darren. "They're also talking about three renegades that were spotted at the bank. One identified former companion, Darren Criss, one cargo runner Chris Colfer and his first mate, Brian Cat." Chris pauses and Darren holds his breath, eyes widening. "According to reports, all eyewitnesses saw the three bank robbers and their ship go up in the flames."

It takes a minute to sink in. "Wait... You mean...?" Darren's eyes widen and Chris actually cracks a smile.

"Yeah, Esmia's chameleon circuits came back on right as the explosion hit. All anyone saw was us over the bank, fire and then nothing. They didn't see us fly off or anything. Reports are saying that the fire would have been hot enough to consume the whole ship if her shields weren't up so, we've officially been declared dead."

"Fuck," Darren breathes, his body slumping. "That's... That's actually..."

"Amazing?"

Darren laughs. "Yeah, it is. For now anyways."

Chris hums, agreeing with him.

"Did Hannah get the money you sent her?" Darren asks Chris quietly. When Chris disappeared a few days after the heist and came back sad and with significantly less money than he had when he left, Darren knew what he did.

Chris nods, leaning against Darren's body. "Good," Darren presses a kiss into the soft material of Chris's shirt. "She'll know Chris, she'll know its from you and she'll know you're okay."

"I know," Chris agrees, nuzzling into Darren's neck and letting Darren take care of him. Darren wraps his arms around Chris's body and turns the controls for the hologram off, shutting the console down to autopilot. "I think we should celebrate this wonderful turn of events, don't you?" He grins and tugs Chris away from the command deck.

"What, again? Aren't you still sore?"

Darren laughs as they make their way into their shared quarters before sliding the door shut and pushing Chris down onto the bed, quickly following him on top. "True, but you're not."

"Lucky, lucky me," Chris moans, holding Darren in place.

"Lucky both of us. I got everything I ever wanted. You, me and the stars," Darren whispers, brushing his lips over Chris's own.  
"And Brian," Chris adds.

Darren snorts and falls over to Chris side, laughing. "Yup, and Brian. Everything I ever wanted." Chris laughs and picks up Darren's hand, threading their fingers together and giving it a squeeze.

"So, you're good with this? You're happy like this?"

"Yeah, yeah I am," Darren replies, looking right at Chris. He leans over, cupping the side of Chris's face to kiss him slow and deep, his tongue sliding in to just briefly tease Chris's own. "Now, where to Captain?"


End file.
